Headlights, Taillights, and the Light of the World

Sermon for April 3, 2011 at Temple Lutheran Church. Scripture text: Ephesians 5:8–14 and John 9:1-11.

"As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world."

Jesus speaks those words as he encounters a man blind from birth.

Everyone else, including even Jesus' disciples, are concerned with determining how sin created the man's blindness: "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Jesus didn't seem much concerned with the question. He said the answer was "neither" and made it clear that he was more interested in God's works being revealed. And then Jesus spat on the ground, made some mud, rubbed it on the blind man's eyes, and sent him off to wash. When the man came back, he could see. The others were concerned about how the man came to be blind. They were concerned with understanding the way things came to be this way. Jesus is more interested in making something new. The others looked at the present as the result of the past while Jesus looked at the present as the key to the future. And in the middle of all of that, right before he spits on the ground, Jesus says,"As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world."

Light is a significant theme in the gospel of John. The opening paragraphs in chapter 1 are all about light coming into the world. As the story of Jesus unfolds, It's about Jesus bringing light into the world and the resulting struggle of the light coming into the world, but people still loving darkness. In this passage, Jesus comes right out and makes light his mission: "As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world." Jesus came to be light—to bring light into the world.

In other places in scripture, Jesus makes it clear that we are a part of that mission. Jesus not only says "I am the Light of the world," but "You are the light of the world" followed by the words spoken to each of us as we are baptized: "let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven." Jesus makes us a part of that mission—Jesus calls us to be light. That invitation is reflected in our reading from Ephesians: "For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light." Because of Jesus, we are light!

"For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Live as children of light — for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true. Try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord."

We are invited—called by Jesus—to be light; To live as children of light. As we gather together as a community of people following Jesus, the question I invite us to wrestle with is are we going to be headlights or taillights? I can't take credit for the distinction—I came across it this week as I was reading. It was Martin Luther King, Jr. in his Letter from Birmingham Jail that first talked about headlights and taillights in this manner. It got me thinking about headlights and taillights on a car and how they are both lights that shine in the darkness, but that they shine in different ways and in different directions.

Taillights are there to communicate what the car is doing. They send the message "here is where the car is at." They shine brightest when the brakes are engaged; they light up when forward motion is slowed down. Taillights shine backwards.

Headlights, however, shine forward. Placed at the very front of the vehicle, they shine forward into the darkness. Headlights do not simply indicate where the car is at, but illuminate the road ahead to determine where the car can go. Headlights expose things that are hidden by darkness so that the car can be moved in a direction that is good, right and true. Headlights don't light up when forward motion is slowed down, headlights shine in order to make forward motion possible.

Dr. King lamented that Christians and churches were too often merely being a taillight for our society instead of a headlight shining at the forefront and illuminating the way forward toward God's promised land. He described "a religious community largely adjusted to the status quo standing as a taillight behind other community agencies rather than a headlight leading [people] to higher levels of justice."

As followers of Jesus, we are called to be light. The words that Dr. King wrote from a jail cell in Alabama are not too far removed from the words that define baptism for us. Every baptized person is claimed not only by God, but also by a community—by followers of Jesus called to be light. The community promises to include that person "so that they may learn to trust God, proclaim Christ through word and deed, care for others and the world God made, and work for justice and peace."

In Jesus, God comes into our world. God comes into your own reality—your very own life—and brings light into darkness. Jesus steps in and makes a new life possible for you. It is no less dramatic than if you were blind since the moment you were born sitting in darkness listening once again listen to voices judging you as they asked each other what sin created you blindness.

And then you hear the sound of someone spitting on the ground.

And then you feel a hand rubbing mud on your blind eyes and sending you to the water—and as you wash you receive your sight. You receive a new life.

Others may be concerned about how you came to be blind, but Jesus is more interested in making something new. Others might look at the present as the result of your past, but Jesus looks at the present as the key to your future.

Jesus brings you light so that you can be light. Not a taillight that shines backwards, but a headlight that shines forward for the purpose of finding what is good and right and true. A headlight that "proclaims Christ through word and deed, cares for others and the world God made, and works for justice and peace."

Jesus brings you light so that you can be light—so that you can shine forward with the good news of the gospel. (amen)

Known and Loved at the Living Water Well

Scripture provides us with countless wonderful stories. Sometimes, however, we miss the true treasure of these stories because we try to think our way through them instead of trying to step into the world the story shows us. As someone who stands up and preaches on a regular basis, I'll be honest and admit that sometimes it's the sermon that gets in the way of the story. I hope that doesn't happen here today.

Today's story speaks of Jesus, exhausted from traveling, sitting down next to a well. He meets a Samaritan woman there, and something life-changing happens. As we enter into this story together, I invite you to consider what this story might sound like if it were being told by that woman. To help us hear this story from that voice, I invite you to listen to it again, this time from the mouth of a woman:

To be known is to be loved, and to be loved is to be known—and Jesus does both for this Samaritan woman by the well. Entering into this story, we are invited into the same experience ourselves. I'd like to let this story surround you today by asking you to consider a few questions that I pray will draw you into this story without the sermon getting in the way.

Can you see yourself in this story? Can you see yourself meeting Jesus in this way? Some of us may be able to connect with her as a woman. That may be less of a connection for the males reading this. Maybe. I'm pretty confident that no one reading this is from Samaria and can connect wither her because she is a Samaritan. Are there any Samaritans here today? I didn't think so.

Often, when we hear the word "Samaritan" it's easy to think it refers to a good person; a kind person. We've all heard the story of the "Good Samaritan" and have probably used the term "good Samaritan". In the Bible, however, a Samaritan was simply another ethnic group. A group that was generally excluded—on the outside—which is why Jesus made the good neighbor a Samaritan in that other story. For today, however, being a Samaritan was reason to be avoided and excluded.

So, what makes you a "Samaritan"? The Samaritan woman is surprised (I'd even say shocked) that Jesus asks her for a drink of water—that Jesus even interacts with her. She says, "How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?" and we read that Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans. The message that she was used to was that who she was was not good enough, and there was nothing she could do about it. It's just the way that the world was set up: with her on the outside.

What makes you a "Samaritan"? What are the ways that you feel that you are excluded? We sure have encountered plenty of ways that we exclude ourselves from one another. Perhaps it's that separation of men and women—of gender. Perhaps it's separation based on race or ethnicity or sexuality. Perhaps it's your age: you feel excluded because you're too young, or because you're not young enough anymore. Perhaps it's because you don't live on the right side of the tracks. Perhaps you don't have the right income. Perhaps you're not strong enough or smart enough or healthy enough.

What are all of the things, beyond your control, that define you as being on the outside? What makes you a "Samaritan"? Think of all of them, and then realize the surprising, even shocking, truth that Jesus still comes to meet you at the well.

The surprise that this woman feels in the story actually goes beyond the reality that she is a Samaritan and a woman. As the conversation continues, it becomes clear that there is even more getting in the way and excluding her. There is more that comes not from the reality she was born into, but from the things that have happened during her life up to that point. We learn she has had 5 husbands and lives with one who is not her husband. Some see this as evidence that she was a sinful woman and call her a harlot (or worse), but her history (which is laid bare in the story) may be more about being abandoned and rejected, even mistreated. Jesus describes all of it to her: all of the things that cause her to be convinced that she personally is not worthy to be included—whether it was her own mistakes or harm inflicted by the world around her. Jesus describes it all to her—every bit of who she is. Jesus tells her all about herself.

I invite you to ask yourself today: If Jesus told you about yourself…what would it include? What are all the things about you that would be included? All the hurts, the mistakes, the sin, the shame. What are all the scars that you've picked up along the way that tell the story of who you are? Imagine all of those things, and then hear Jesus describing all of it to you. To hear the stuff identified may bring pain or fear. But as Jesus describes it, you can rest in the truth that Jesus knows you.

The good news of this story is that Jesus knows you—and to be known by Jesus is to be loved by Jesus. Jesus offers living water to you, just as you are, so that a new life—a new identity—can begin within you. The woman recognizes not just who Jesus is, but what Jesus offers: Jesus offers dignity. Jesus invites you to not be defined by your circumstances. Jesus offers you a new identity that lifts you above every other thing that tries to define who you are.

When the woman realizes that Jesus knows her and loves her, she drops everything to go back to the city to find the other Samaritans and tell them about Jesus.

I want to leave you today with two last questions to consider. The first one is Who are your "Samaritans"? Who should hear what Jesus has told you? Who should see what Jesus has shown you? Who should taste what Jesus has given you? Who should feel for themselves the forgiveness that you have received? More importantly, who is it that can now encounter Jesus because you have encountered Jesus? The Samaritan woman goes to other Samaritans. Who are the people that struggle just like you do, that are most likely to meet Jesus through you?

The final question is what does it mean for you to "go to the city"? What does it mean for you to run back to town? Where is God's love for you compelling you to go today? As we experience the good news that God loves us, we are sent out to take that good news with us. We are sent back to town to share it with others just like us, who need to be known and loved—by God and by you. What does it mean for you to "go to the city"?

What's great at the conclusion of this story is that all the woman did was share what she had experienced. She simple shared her own story—God does all the rest.

The other Samaritans who came to believe said to her, "It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world." Once they hear for themselves, God does the work. It is not our amazing charm, wit, or sermons that make it happen. God does all the work. We simply tell our story so that others can come to the well and drink the living water for themselves.

Take this story with you today. It is not just the story of one Samaritan woman at a well—it is your story, it is our story. Let this story shape your life so that the story can reach others and bring them the living water that comes from the good news of the gospel. (Amen).